


The Anomaly

by dragonashes



Series: Quintessence: Undertale One-shots [29]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Timeline Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonashes/pseuds/dragonashes
Summary: Asgore maintains his despotic rule through his control over the ‘Anomaly,’ which most believe to be a mysterious power that grants him near-limitless knowledge.  Few know it’s a person, a human.Sans is one of those few.





	The Anomaly

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I've run off all my reviewers, have some Underfell.

Sans watched, passive, as Boss stalked back and forth, ranting and gesturing grandly.  Another plot against King Asgore’s life had been thwarted just a few hours before.  That was good, in a sense: good for the stability of the Underground’s hierarchy, of which Boss was an integral part, and bad for Boss’s own ambitions.

The king himself had warned the Guard about this plot.  It wasn’t the first time the king had displayed a near-limitless knowledge of the future over the past few years, thanks to something certain monsters called ‘the Anomaly.’  If the king knew everything that would happen with such accuracy...who could ever stand against him?

Not Boss, certainly, hence the ranting.  Boss was a strong monster, stronger than Captain Undyne probably, but he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.  He was unparalleled when it came to his strengths - setting up deadly traps, solving puzzles, and beating the dust out of his opponents - but he usually failed to consider the bigger picture.

Against an opponent with uncanny knowledge of the bigger picture, Boss was effectively powerless.

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“IT DOESN’T SOUND LIKE YOU’RE LISTENING.”

“I’m listening, Boss.”

“THEN WHAT WAS THE LAST THING I SAID?”

“Blah blah blah stupid Anomaly, blah blah wanna be king.”

Boss screamed, and Sans hid a smile.  He vaguely remembered what Boss had said - it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before - but Boss’s reactions were just so  _ funny _ .

“SANS.”  A firm hand came down on Sans’s shoulder and he winced.  “HERE IS WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO DO.”

“Me?  But…”

“NO BUTS!  YOU WILL SNEAK INTO THE KING’S PALACE AND FIND OUT HOW HE UTILIZES THE ANOMALY.  YOU WILL REPORT THIS BACK TO ME.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Commit treason and give the info to you.  Got it.”

“NO!  ARGH!  WE ARE JUST...MAKING SURE THE KING IS NOT OVEREXERTING HIMSELF AFTER THIS LATEST ATTACK.”

“And if I get caught?”

“THEN MAKE AN EXCUSE.  YOU’RE VERY GOOD AT THAT.  I KNOW YOU HANG OUT AROUND THE PALACE UNUSUALLY OFTEN -”

Now where had Boss gotten  _ that _ bit of info?

“-SO SURELY YOU CAN THINK OF SOMETHING.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”  Sans pulled his jacket on, not bothering to zip it up, and stomped out the door.

Snowdin was empty, as it usually was that time of night.  Most of the residents were at Grillby’s, either relaxing after a long day’s work or preparing for the night shift.  The few citizens who weren’t sentries or part of the Guard were shut safely into their homes.

It was pretty easy to slip into the forest and take a shortcut to a deserted corner of the Capital, away from the crowds.  He pulled the hood of his black jacket up, shoved his hands into his pockets, and slunk out into the street.

The lava that flowed through Hotland cast a reddish glow over the buildings.  In the absence of any day/night cycle, this portion of the Underground had a constant stream of activity; a vast contrast from Snowdin’s lazy pulses of life.  Sans lost himself in the crowds with the ease of practice, slowly making his way towards the king’s palace.

Getting into the palace would be easy...on a normal day.  He’d never thought much of it before.  If word was making its way to Boss about his activities, though, Sans wanted to use a little more caution.

He was...attached to his HP.

That in mind, he ducked into a small shop that stood along the outer wall of the palace.  He’d ‘convinced’ a former maid to tell him about this place, once upon a time.  He hadn’t needed it often, but it was a convenience well worth the effort he’d put in to acquire it.

He nodded to the old rabbit monster who manned the counter and flicked a gold coin to the shop assistant.  The assistant, a strange monster who appeared to be made entirely of interconnected pyramids, caught it delicately with her magic.  She tapped it twice against the counter then turned away with an exaggerated motion.

Slipping behind her, Sans passed through a well-mended curtain into a storage room.  In the back corner was a trap door, sealed against magical interference.  Few authorities would bother searching such a thing; they were all too common in New Home, where half the stores also served as bolt holes for their owners’ families.  The riots may have been quelled by King Asgore’s newfound power for the time being, but fear could only control the population for so long.

The shopkeeper clearly agreed.  The room under the trapdoor was well-stocked with magical and nonmagical foods, blankets, and boxes of clothing.  Sans’s eye caught a spigot half-hidden behind the boxes;  _ someone _ had tapped into the Core’s cooling system and gotten fresh water.  He made a mental note to taunt Alphys with the information.  Too many of those taps, and the next time the population of New Home had to take shelter the entire cooling system would destabilize.

That wasn’t his concern, though.  A shelving unit covered in empty boxes along the far wall slid out, revealing a hidden door.  Sans ducked through and listened intently.  The rough-hewn stone tunnel beyond sounded empty, as it usually was, but he didn’t want to take chances.

He pushed the door open and flattened himself against the wall, listening.  The well-oiled hinge didn’t squeak, and the only sound that came from the tunnel was the intermittent sound of dripping water.  It was completely dark in the absence of even the low light of the bolt hole.  If he hadn’t honed his hearing and ability to sense magic, he would have been completely lost.

The journey through the tunnel was shorter than he remembered.  Either he’d gotten better at navigating or his memory was going bad.  He wouldn’t have been surprised either way.

The tunnel terminated at what appeared to be, to the casual observer, a solid stone wall.  Sans dug his phone out of his pocket, double-checked that it was on silent, and ran it along the side of the tunnel a few feet back from the wall.  After a moment of looking he found the rough edge of the door hidden there, slipped the catch, and pulled it open.

Inside was another bolt hole.  This one had more supplies but of inferior quality.  The palace servants were provided for by the crown, which basically meant they were little better than slaves.  Working in the palace was a last resort for monsters who had nowhere else to turn.

No one had decided to take an impromptu nap or smoke break down there, thankfully.  Sans felt around until he found the pull-down ladder that lead up to the servant’s quarters, listened for a moment, then hauled himself up.

The closet he emerged into was in one of the quieter areas of the servants’ quarters, but with so large a staff ‘quiet’ was a relative term.  He could hear footsteps passing by every few seconds and the low rumble of voices.  This was the trickiest part.

He aimed for a time when the two nearest sets of footsteps sounded like they were on opposite ends of the hallway, then opened the door.  No screams; excellent.  He made his way down the hallway with firm steps, trying to project confidence in his body language.

He made it to the kitchen without too much trouble.

“Heya, sweet cheeks,” he said, leaning over the shoulder of a mouse-like monster barely shorter than he was and tapping his teeth against her cheek.

She squeaked and swung her wooden spoon at him.  He dodged back on instinct, missing the spoon itself, but couldn’t quite avoid the splatter of whatever soup she’d been stirring.  He wiped a droplet off his cheekbone and brought it to his mouth.  “Tastes great as always, hun.”

The mouse monster huffed and crossed her arms, spoon still dripping.  “You are a troublemaker, Sans,” she said.  “How did you even get in here?  I didn’t hear the usual ruckus you usually drag in with you.”

“Aww, don’t be like that.  I have my ways.”

“Hmph!  And I suppose you’ll be wanting supper, hmm?”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

“Freeloader,” she grumbled, throwing her spoon back into her pot.  She dashed around the kitchen with surprising agility, poking and grabbing.  A heavy stone bowl of her soup, a fresh-baked roll, a small dish of some green vegetable cooked with fragrant spices, and a glass of something murky and bubbling all went onto a tray that was shoved at the skeleton.

“Take it,” she said, her whiskers twitching, “And stop bothering me with your nonsense.”

She gave a token effort at dodging his second peck, but it was halfhearted at best.  “Thanks, sweet cheeks,” Sans said.  He balanced the tray on one hand, then reached into his pocket for a small pouch of waxed canvas.  He tossed it to her.  “Make something tasty for your grandkids, ‘kay?”

She huffed, but tucked the pouch into her apron with extreme care.  “You’re hopeless, Sans.  Now shoo!  I have real monsters to cook for.”

“Aww, you’re gonna hurt my feelings.  I can see you blushing, y’know.”

“SHOO!”

“Heh, ‘m gone.”

He made his way over to the dining hall, where tables were set up for servants and other palace workers.  He nodded to a few folks he recognized from visits but didn’t stop to chat.  The fewer the people who remembered his presence, the better.

The meal was every bit as delicious as it looked.  He resisted the urge to scarf it down, grateful for the respite from Boss’s toxic burnt noodle creations, and made a show of savoring it slowly instead.

He had a job to do, after all.

The servants came and went like the tides in Waterfall, carrying valuable little bits of information in their wake.  The recent assassination attempt was a topic of some discussion - a few servants had been present for the incident, and were eagerly inflating the danger involved - but for most it was business as usual.

“The Anomaly,” they said around bites of soup and rolls.  “King Asgore controls the Anomaly.  He was powerful enough without it, but now?  He’s invincible.  He’s practically a god.”

That was about what Sans had come to expect from the palace servants on the topic, which was disappointing.  He’d been hoping for something a little more scandalous.  It was an interesting distinction, though, that the servants said the king ‘controlled’ the anomaly, while those outside the palace spoke of it as if it was some power he’d obtained.

Sans rolled the thought over in his mind.  Few knew, as he did, that the king’s acquisition of the Anomaly - whatever it was - coincided neatly with the errant Queen’s return. Asgore was no fool; he’d taken steps to obscure the timing of both events.  To most, one day Queen Toriel was an exiled criminal, and the next she had been pardoned of her crimes in light of ‘service to the crown.’

The Anomaly hadn’t been publicly announced until almost a full year later.  The majority of the Underground had missed the connection, but Sans had access to...unique information.  Information that Asgore had gone to great lengths to destroy.

Information about timelines.

It was time magic, this Anomaly the king wielded so casually.  Sans had never spoken of his experiences as an assistant and lab rat of W. D. Gaster, former Royal Scientist.  The old man had been paranoid enough for some of it to rub off on his protege, and that attitude had served Sans well.  No one else knew that Sans had been part of the Core Project or the DETERMINATION Initiative.  No one else had ever seen the machine that he kept under a tarp in his basement, or the long lists of calculations he’d spent years pouring over.

It was the only way he’d escaped the purge of the Royal Scientist’s old team in that year between the first use of the Anomaly and its announcement to the public.  It really had been a purge, despite the myriad reasons given.  After Gaster disappeared and the team disbanded they had all scattered and gone to ground.

Asgore had unerringly dug them all up again.  He’d been content to leave them alone until then; uncharacteristic, given the number of unethical projects that had taken place, but dedicated scientists had always been rare in the Underground.  After the Anomaly was acquired, their value to the crown apparently expired.  Most of the charges brought against the former scientists were reasonable - drug trafficking, weapons dealing, smuggling, tax evasion, and so on - but the precision with which each member of the team had been hunted down hadn’t escaped Sans.  He’d tried to warn them, but no one had listened.

He was the only one left.

The new Royal Scientist, Alphys, was a newcomer to the scientific community.  She’d come from a little village on the boundary between Hotland and Waterfall, away from the rumors that circled the capitol like flies.  Her focuses - robotics and SOUL magic - were so far removed from Gaster’s that she could barely decipher what few notes remained after Sans, then Asgore, had scoured the labs.  She was cowardly, nervous, and eager for approval; in short, perfect for a puppet scientist who would keep her head down and not ask uncomfortable questions.

Sans had been jealous of her, at first.  He hadn’t realized until Gaster disappeared that some part of him had coveted the position of Royal Scientist and all the fame and glory it brought.  He’d made a lucky escape, really.  With all he knew, he would’ve been dead within the week if he’d been appointed.

Disappearing into Snowdin under the guise of a lazy fool had worked.  He’d been nervous when Asgore had called him to the palace a few years back, thinking he’d been found out, but the old goat had wanted something completely different.  Boss had mentioned in passing that Sans could read SOULs with unusual precision, and that had caught the king’s attention.

That, in short, was how Sans had become the Judge.  It was a pretty nasty job, all told - worse than being a member of the Guard - and he didn’t even get the glory that came with parading around in armor.  It was a raw deal, but one he knew better than to refuse.

Besides, the position had its uses.  If Asgore knew what he’d learned over the years, eavesdropping around the palace, he would’ve executed Sans on sight.

Usually his duties were quick: sneak in, bug his contacts on the staff, do the king’s dirty work, and be home before Boss realized he wasn’t actually at Grillby’s.  This was the first opportunity he’d had to escape Boss long enough to really investigate the Anomaly, and he wasn’t going to pass it up.

He put his dirty dishes in the bins assigned for that purpose, then headed out of the staff rooms and into the castle proper.  Servants passed him, unconcerned; security had gotten lax in recent years, and despite the attack only a few hours before no one questioned his presence.  He saw a few new faces eyeing him with eagerness, as if hoping that he was an assassin so they could witness the king’s mysterious power for themselves, but he ignored them.  They would move onto the next new and exciting thing and forget all about him soon enough.

The palace was bustling with activity.  A quick peek into the throne room showed that the king and queen were both present, probably giving a press conference on the recent attack.

_ Perfect. _

There were, according to Sans’s calculations, only a few areas inaccessible and secure enough for the Anomaly to be hidden.  Based on what he had overheard, the only areas where the king usually traveled around the time the Anomaly was being used were his personal dungeons and his chambers.

It was, then, a gamble on the true nature of the Anomaly.  Sans’s research into timelines had indicated that time magic could only be used by a living being.  Someone with less information might have assumed that the king was the vessel for the Anomaly, like the rumors said, but Sans knew better.  Time magic required truly epic amounts of DETERMINATION, a substance found primarily in human SOULs, and everyone knew what happened when a monster devoured a human SOUL.

Asgore had been looking and acting far too much like himself for that to be an option.  Besides, he had six human SOULS; if he’d been using a human SOUL, the Anomaly should have appeared years ago.

With research on DETERMINATION at a standstill, though, what other option was there?  It wasn’t like Alphys had access to any of this information, or was able to manufacture DETERMINATION on a whim.  He’d checked.

He kept to the shadows, carefully watching the flow of traffic.  His best chance for getting into the king’s chambers was at a time like this, with both the king and queen occupied, but they were still too well-guarded for Sans to be comfortable with that option.

The king’s dungeons, on the other hand, were barely guarded at all.  After all, anyone trying to get in (or, more commonly, out) would have to traverse the entirety of the palace to find the nearest exit.  There were enough guards and magical traps to keep any monster inside without the need for guards...or so the king thought.

Then again, most monsters hadn’t lived their entire lives with the Underground’s foremost expert in puzzle design.

Getting into the king’s dungeons was absurdly easy.  It was tempting to teleport right over the traps - they were downright boring, compared to Boss’s - but the runes along the wall caught his eye.  It was devious: a subtle system of magical detection he recognized from his time in Gaster’s labs.  There was little to keep a monster from using magic, at least on the outer edges of the dungeon, but any use of magic would be analyzed and reported.

He made his way through manually, instead.  There was a safe path through, and it had been used recently.  What surprised him was that the tracks were very obviously smaller than King Asgore’s.  A servant, then.  Sans felt doubt.  Would the king really let a mere servant near the Anomaly?  If so, why?

“Hello, dear!” called an unfamiliar voice.

Sans ducked into an empty cell as quietly as he could.  The clattering of the traps being clumsily traversed covered up the sounds of his quick breathing.  He tried to slow it down.  It wasn’t like he really needed to breathe...right?

“Ah!  There you are!”

For a moment, Sans thought he’d been caught.  A long moment of silence passed as he waited for someone to attack, or scream for help, or slam the cell door, but...nothing.  Instead, dainty footsteps went right past him -  _ tap, tap, ta-tap _ \- and stopped at the cell just down the hallway from his.

“You poor dear, you look cold!  Well, I have some nice hot soup here for you.  See?  And a roll, too.  Aren’t you lucky!  Well, eat up!”

_ Tap, tap, ta-tap, tap, tap, ta-tap, tap click THUD. _

Huh.

Sans counted, slowly, to a hundred, then peeked back out of the cell.  There was no one to be seen.  The only unusual thing in the hallway was an almost comically large hammer, slowly sinking back into the wall..  On the ground beneath it was a plain servant’s dress.

After a moment, that was the only evidence that remained that anything had gone wrong.  The hammer had receded back into the wall, and the catch - highlighted now by the dust scattered across the floor - had been reset.

At least it had been quick.

He turned back and headed for the cell where the food had been left...and pulled up short.  Two brown eyes caught his from under a low hood.  The monster’s body was completely covered in dark brown cloth, except for a small opening where those eyes peeked out.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Sans took a half-step forward, trying to look as unthreatening as possible.  “Hey, there-”

The monster stumbled back, roll falling out of one...hand?  Yes, that appendage was very obviously a hand, even obscured by the ragged strips of cloth that wrapped in odd patterns around the arm.

“Wait, wait; I’m not gonna hurt you.  I just wanna talk, okay?”

But the monster had retreated back onto some kind of covered nest that stood in the corner of the cell.  Sans hummed a little to himself.  Well, it didn’t look dangerous; and even if it was, he wasn’t too worried.  He extracted his pair of lockpicks and got to work on the cell door.

It was even easier than the traps.  What in the Underground  _ was _ this?  Either this monster wasn’t really a prisoner, or something weird was going on.

The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges.  Sans stepped through, trying to keep his footsteps muffled.  “Hey, there.  Can I just talk to you?  Maybe?  A little?”  He picked up the roll and rubbed the dirt off on a sleeve.  “Did you want your supper?”

A low gurgling growl emerged from the nest and Sans held his ground.  It sounded...weird.  He didn’t know any monsters that growled like that, and he’d been growled at by a lot of monsters.

Slowly, one limb at a time, the monster crawled out of its nest.  It was humanoid in shape, like Sans himself or Grillby or Undyne, but it seemed more solid than a skeleton or an elemental.  It was small, probably only around Sans’s height.

Those brown eyes looked back up at him, pupils blown wide in the low light.  There was... _ skin _ surrounding them.  Brownish, soft skin.

“Hey there,” Sans said.  “I, uh, saw...you dropped this, right?”  He held out the roll, willing his hand not to shake.

The monster flinched back, but did not retreat.  It looked from the roll to Sans to the open door, then back to Sans.  It tilted its head to the side.  Then, carefully, it reached out a hand towards his.

Sans’s first instinct was to grab the monster’s arm as soon as it had the roll, but he refrained.  Something was...off about this monster.  He could barely  _ feel _ it.  Serving as the King’s Judge may have honed his ability to sense magic, but this monster hardly registered as magical.

Hands held open and wide, he shuffled half a step closer.  “So, uh, what’s your name?”

The monster peered at him, roll clutched tight to its chest.

“Quiet one, aren’tcha.  Well, can I at least see your face?”

Nothing.

“Look, I’m tryin’ to help ya here.  I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but you’re stuck in here, right?”

The monster made a gesture out at the door.  At first, Sans thought it was telling him to leave; after all, it seemed quite settled in here with food deliveries and a nest.  Then, it brought a hand down and tapped a muffled rhythm against the floor.

_ Tap, tap, ta-tap, tap, tap ta-tap _

“Oh!  The, uh, the lady who was here before.  Didn’t even see her; I was hiding, ‘cause I’m not supposed to be here.  She...she didn’t make it.  Stepped on a trap, looked like.  Did you...know her?”

The head shook, slowly.  “No,” the monster said.  “She was new.”

It was a high voice.  Female, it sounded like, but hoarse like it hadn’t been used in a while.

“Ah, gotcha.  I take it that happens often, then.  ‘M sorry.”

The monster looked down.

“Hey, can I see your face, at least?”

“He’ll kill you.  The king will kill you if you see my face.”

“I can take care of myself.  I just...wanna make sure you aren’t anyone I know.  Uh, no offense.”

The monster reached back and gently set the roll inside its (her?) nest.  Two hands reached up and pulled back the hood, revealing a head wrapped in broad strips of cloth.  It (she?) seemed to be having trouble untying the cloth, but after a minute of fumbling, one hand managed to snag an end.

The face underneath was mottled with angry red blotches, with a few long scars down one cheek.  One scar caught at the corner of her mouth, pulling it down into a permanent frown.  The ear on that side was ragged and bleeding.

Sans  _ stared. _

“If this is a trick,” she said, “You can jump into a lake, mister.”

“I…”  This was no monster.  This was the  _ Anomaly. _  “You’re...human.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re just a  _ kid. _ ”

“I’m sixteen...probably.  Not a kid.”

“Not old enough to be down  _ here _ , either.  What the  _ hell _ happened??”

The human - the kid - sniffled a little.  Her eyes cut over to the remainder of her meal still sitting by the meal flap.

Sans huffed, but walked over to retrieve the tray.  It held the promised soup, a spoon, and a large pitcher of water.  “Here,” he said, placing it back on the ground beside her.

The girl reached back into her nest and produced a cup, which she filled.  She offered it to Sans first.

“Uh, no thanks, kid.  I don’t need water.”

“Fine.  Take a sip anyways.”

“Why?”

“I want proof that you aren’t here to kill me.”

Fair enough.  Sans took the glass and, looking the kid in the eye, took a long sip.  The water felt...weird, splashing down over his ribcage.  “Didn’t do much to me, kiddo.”

“Okay, then.  I let you see my face, and you aren’t here to kill me.  Who are you and what do you want?”

Sans looked at the kid, hard.  A brief flare of his magic - not enough to register on the monitoring system - showed him what he wanted.

* FRISK ATK 10 DEF 10  
* Human.  
* Wants to trust you.

“I think,” he said, “I’m looking for...you.”

“What?”  Frisk jerked, eyes wide.  “Why would you be looking for  _ me? _  Why  _ now? _  I’ve been down here for...for  _ years! _  Why would you...no one even knows I’m down here!  No one except... _ them. _ ”

“Them?”

“The king and... _ her. _ ”

“The queen?  Toriel?”

Frisk hissed.  “Don’t  _ talk _ about her to me.  That...that  _ traitor _ isn’t my mother.”

Sans’s head was starting to hurt.  “Okay.  I think we need to take a step back and talk things out.

“I’m...well, I was…” he leaned in closer, just in case there were other security measures he didn’t know about, “...a scientist.  I worked with a guy who studied time.  I’ve been looking for the Anomaly - for whatever kept messing with the timeline - for a while now.  This is the first time I’ve had enough time to myself to actually go looking.”

“Time...wait, so you know about the SAVEs and LOADs?”

“Is that what you call ‘em?  Seems fitting.  Creating a set point in time and returning to that point.  You’ve been SAVEing in the mornings, right?”

“Well...yeah.  I’m under orders to SAVE after my morning meal.”  She looked down at her soup bowl, now mostly empty.  “I thought...the king said that everyone who knew about this was dead.  He’s taunted me about that so many times.  He said...he said that I’d never,  _ ever _ get out.”

“Well, that’s just...hey, hey now.  Don’t go cryin’ on me.”

“I’m not crying,” Frisk sobbed.  “I just have dust in my eye.”

“Sure, kid.”  Sans dug around in both his pockets, but the best he could come up with was a grease-spotted napkin from Grillby’s.  “Uh, here.  If ya need it.”

“Thanks,” she said.  Casually, like it was something she was used to saying every day of her damn life.

_ Thanks. _

“What?  Why are you  _ thanking _ me?  All I did was hand you a ratty napkin.”  When was the last time Sans had been  _ thanked _ for something?

“It’s polite?  And you’re being nice to me.  You didn’t have to.”  She wiped her face down.  “I’m Frisk, by the way.  Just...just Frisk.”

“Nice ta meet you, Frisk.  I’m Sans.  Sans the skeleton.”  He held out a hand, which Frisk took without hesitation.  He wished, in hindsight, that he’d thought to pack a whoopie cushion or a joy buzzer or something; that would’ve been the  _ perfect _ setup!

“Nice to meet you, Sans the skeleton.  So, now that you’ve found me...now what?”

“Well...I mean, I didn’t much plan beyond finding whatever the Anomaly was, if I’m honest.  Sorry to disappoint.”

“Yeah, ‘disappointing’ is one word for it.”

“Don’t get  _ cheeky _ with me, kid.”  He gestured to his cheekbone, mirroring the position of a glob of soup that had gotten on Frisk’s face.  She wiped it off with her thumb and licked it clean.  “I’ve been working off theories for so long...it’s weird actually seeing ‘em in action.”

“I’m a  _ person _ , thanks.”

“Oh, I know that.  And don’t get me wrong; I wanna get you out of here.”

“You do?  Why?”

“I think it’s best for everyone involved.  You probably don’t wanna be here, and I have reason to want the Anomaly out from under the old king’s control.”

She looked up, narrowing her eyes at him.  “You want that power, too.  You want control over time.”

“Nah.”  He glanced away.  “Okay, so...I admit, it would be neat to study.  Time travel is...well, I’ve seen some of the books you humans throw away, okay?  They fall down here sometimes.  I...I’ve never met a  _ real _ time traveler.”  He shuffled his feet, hamming it up.  “I might want to see it in action, maybe...once or twice?  Does that sound fair?”

Frisk’s expression hadn’t changed.  “Uh-huh.  So, you’re, what, gonna break me out of...wherever this is, risking your life, and all you want in exchange is for me to reset ‘once or twice.’”

“Sure-”

“And you expect me to  _ believe _ that.”

They eyed each other.  “Kid, getting the anomaly out of King Asgore’s hands is enough.  If I can do a nice kid like you a solid on the way, well, that’s just great.  If I can single-handedly undermine Asgore’s rule  _ and _ see living proof of something my mentor and most of our team literally  _ died _ for, that’s more than I ever thought I’d accomplish in my sorry life.  Capiche?”

“What?”

“Does that make sense, kid?”

“Uh, sure.  I guess.  I just...this is all really, really surprising.”

“Fair enough.  I mean, I know I’m the prettiest thing you’ve probably seen since you fell down here, so…” he shrugged and winked.

Frisk laughed under her breath.  “Whatever.  You’re funny.”

“Uh...thanks.”

She shrugged.  “I guess I’d better do this for you, then.  Hand?”

Sans jerked one hand out of his pocket and waved it a little at her.  “What…?”

“Give me your  _ hand. _ ”

“Oh, uh, here-”

His entire concept of reality went  _ white. _

_ W H A T _

_ D O _

_ Y O U _

_ T W O _

_ T H I N K ? _

When he came back to himself he was laying on his side on a hard surface, limbs akimbo, covered by a blanket.

The kid.   _ Frisk. _  Had that been a trap?  He pulled the blanket off and looked around.  He was still in her cell, right about where he’d been standing.  The cell door was closed.

He scrambled to his feet in a clatter of bones.

“Hey, hey, take it easy!  I’m sorry!”  Frisk tumbled out of her nest.  She’d put all her wrappings in place.  “I didn’t know it would do that to you.  When I did that for the king and...and the queen, it barely phased them.”

Sans checked his stats.  His HP was down to a single point.  No wonder he felt sore.  He pulled out a mustard packet - the only food he had on him - and slurped it down.  “Kid, you nearly  _ dusted _ me.  What the hell??”

“Look, I’m  _ sorry. _  I really didn’t think it would do much to you.”

“What  _ was _ that?”

“I was...I shared a little of my power with you.  Not enough to SAVE or anything, but enough that you can feel it when I do.”

She’d given him  _ DETERMINATION?? _  “Yeah, uh-huh.   _ Why? _ ”

“You’ll be able to remember, now.  When I go back in time, most people forget.  I don’t know why.  This way, you’ll remember what happened when I have to LOAD.”  She looked away, fiddling with the trailing end of one of her sleeves.  “Or...you should.  You didn’t react the way I expected…”

“Yeah, I got that.  I just...wow.   _ Wow. _  I’m surprised I’m not melting.”

“Melting??  Why would you-”

“That stuff that lets you SAVE?  That ‘magic power?’  We call that DETERMINATION.  It’s dangerous to us monsters.  I’ve seen monsters melt into goop after just  _ touching _ it.  I had a tiny little dose, once, a long time ago, and it’s messed with my magic something awful.  I can jump around all over the place, and see things most folks can’t, and...are you even listening?”

“Determination,” she whispered.  “That’s...pretty appropriate, I guess.  Determination.  Never giving up.”

“Yeah.”  Oh, well; science wasn’t for everyone.  He was fine, anyways, now that he had a little more food in him.  He stretched, feeling his bones clack and clatter back into place.  “Now, I guess I’ll see what happens now that I have, uh, a little more.  Heh.  Maybe I’ll finally be able to get off my ass and get something done.  My bro’ll approve, at least.  ...On that note, how long was I out?”

Frisk shrugged.  “Not...long?  I haven’t seen a clock in forever.”

Sans patted his pockets down and located his phone.  It had been an hour since he’d last checked it, back in the tunnel leading into the castle.  He winced.  “I...really need to go, kid.”

“Yeah.  Figures.”  She was staring at his phone like it was the secret to life and happiness.

“Tell ya what.  I’ll see what I can do about gettin’ you a phone or something, alright?  Then we can chat and plot and...and I can send you stupid videos about this dog that keeps bugging my bro.”

“Heh.  Sounds fun.  But...how’m I gonna charge it?  There’s not exactly any power outlets down here.”

“Power...outlets?  I dunno what that is, but you don’t  _ charge _ a phone, ya goofball; they’re not  _ robots _ .  Dunno how long you’ve been down here, but phones these days run on magic.  See?”  He waved his phone at her.  “I mean, dunno how well it’ll work for you, since you aren’t made of magic, but there should be enough down here for it to work.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll work something else out.  That’s the way you science, kiddo.”

“Okay.”

The kid really was looking out of it.  If anything, she looked worse than she did when he first came in.  She looked hopeless, like someone who had seen a glimpse of the surface through the Barrier only to realize that it was an unattainable dream.

“Hey.”  He reached his hand out to her.  “I don’t like making promises.  I’m a lazy guy, these days; promises are just opportunities for people to manipulate you into doing what they want.  But...I promise you, Frisk.  I will get you out of here.”

Frisk met his eyes, unflinching, then slowly shook his hand.  “I’ll hold you to that, Sans the skeleton.”

Getting back out was easier than he expected.  Frisk had closed the door, but it hadn’t locked; it was a simple matter to slip out and re-engage the lock.  The kid retreated back into her nest as he locked her back in, which made him feel a little guilty, but he shoved that thought away.  There was no way he’d be able to get them both out on short notice.  Not with Asgore and Toriel breathing down his neck.

The traps were just as easy as they’d been on the way in, made only slightly more complicated by the fact that he was trying not to disturb the dust of the unfortunate servant.  He was also running on low HP, but...well, that wasn’t anything new.

The halls were a little less busy than before.  The throne room was mostly empty; the press conference was over, and the only ones who remained were a few sycophants who were plotting something in a corner.  The servants were busy sweeping and dusting the vast palace and had little time for a ragged skeleton whose mannerisms indicated he wasn’t to be bothered.

The kitchen was empty, but what food remained had been left out on the counters for the servants who were late to supper.  Sans snagged another couple of rolls to munch on (he  _ really _ needed the HP) then headed back for the tunnel.

The shop he’d used to enter was closed about to close up, but he managed to slip out just in time.  He paid the usual toll to the shop assistant, who made a point of ignoring him.

Boss was waiting up when he got home.  Sans swallowed the last few bites of his roll, then pushed the door open.

“WELL?”

“I found the Anomaly.”

“EXCELLENT!”  Boss stood up and headed for his room, apparently having received the answer he was looking for.

Sans waited.

After a moment, Boss reappeared, looking a little embarrassed.  “WHAT IS THE ANOMALY?”

“It’s a kid.”

“WHAT??”

“Yeah, surprised me, too.  She’s been in the dungeon for years, apparently.  Has some kind of weird magic.  It looks like the king’s been beating it out of her; she didn’t look too great.”

Another pause.  Boss always did have a soft spot for children; he didn’t even have the guts (heh!) to discourage that armless lizard monster kid from following him all over Snowdin.  Sure, he’d be a little less enthusiastic if he knew the Anomaly was a  _ human _ kid, but what Boss didn’t know wouldn’t kill Sans.  “THAT SEEMS ABSOLUTELY DESPICABLE, DON’T YOU THINK?”

“Unconscionable and loathsome.”

“IT SEEMS WE MUST TAKE IT UPON OURSELVES TO RESCUE THIS CHILD, SANS.”

“Sounds like a plan, Boss.”

“NYEHEHEHEHEHE!”

Perfect.  With Boss onboard, this would get a lot easier.

...Or harder, depending on how good Boss’s self-control was.

Sans pulled out his phone.  There was only one person in the Underground who could make an untraceable phone, and he had a whole lot of blackmail on her.  Actually...hadn’t she been making eyes at Undyne lately, too?  If he could get the Captain in on the plan, they were set.  When Boss took over they could give her a pay raise or half the Underground to rule or something.

_ Time to plan a jailbreak. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Underfell is, in my opinion, particularly fascinating. Exploring why anyone would perpetuate a society based on violence is an interesting exercise.
> 
> In case it wasn't clear, Toriel was exiled to the Ruins prior to this story instead of peacefully leaving as she does in the game. When a little human fell into the Ruins, she saw an opportunity. She won Frisk's trust, then snuck her through the Underground supposedly to help her get to the Barrier. Once at the castle, Toriel handed Frisk over to Asgore in exchange for a full pardon. Asgore figured out how to force Frisk to LOAD through...trial and error. Frisk elected to cooperate and bide her time in hope of escape.
> 
> Also, Sans and Granny Mouse have a good working relationship. He trades her salt and spices for meals in the castle kitchen. The flirting is friendly on both sides.
> 
> My novel-length story, also set in an Underfell universe, is going to be coming to an AO3 near you starting this week. I haven't quite finished it, but we do have nearly 30 chapters finished and the rest planned out. That should tide us over for a while, yes?
> 
> Hope everyone is staying warm and safe. See you in a few days!


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